


The Unexpected Volunteer

by AnnieVH



Series: Behind Closed Doors [24]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Library, Rumbelle - Freeform, pre-rumbelle - Freeform, volunteering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle gets an apology. Set right after *A Truckload of Flowers*.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unexpected Volunteer

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings for this verse: eventual Rumbelle and Swanfire.  
> Warnings for this verse: abusive relationship, implied non-con situations, child-abuse, violence, infidelity, very anti-Milah.
> 
> A HUGE THANKS to Maddie (maddiebonanafana.tumblr.com) who did the beta for this one-shot!

For two blissful days, the publicity stunt seemed to have served its purpose better than Belle anticipated and she was on cloud nine. Six volunteers showed up on Monday morning and many more called to know of if she was in need of donations of any kind, from cleaning supplies to books. The catalog was being put to order, the floors were cleaned, and donations were  _pouring_  at her door.

Everything was working in such perfect harmony she didn’t have time to think about Mr. Gold, his mean wife, or the Mayor breathing on her neck. Two weeks to put the library in order. With all the help and support she was getting from the community, it was not only doable, it was easier than she thought.

Two blissful days.

By Wednesday, Archie Hopper was the only one who showed up. After hours.

“I suppose publicity only goes so far,” Belle told him, carrying a pile of books as high as herself from one shelf to another, a little less enthusiastic than she had been the day before, but still refusing to let reality crush her spirit.

“Yes, how about that,” Archie said, trying so hard to sound vague and conversational Belle stopped working and gave him a questioning look. Didn’t take him long to cave in. “It  _might_  be possible that people are a little displeased with the way you handled the end of your relationship.”

“What relationship?” she asked, then her eyes doubled in size. “Oh, no. No. Don’t tell me.”

“Yes…”

“It’s been  _eight years_!”

“Gaston might have given people the impression that it was more recent than that. As recent as two days ago, actually. And his version of the facts does not paint you as a good person.”

Belle didn’t have to guess. Gaston’s version of the facts likely translated into him doing something nice and Belle being an unnecessary bitch. Granted, she  _had_  been a little tough, but whatever he was saying seemed to demonize her to a point that whatever volunteers she had did not show up for the rest of the day. Or the next day, for that matter.

Loyalty was a funny thing in small towns, and she had nobody’s but Ruby’s, who was tied up in the diner all day, and Jaq and Gus’, both finally able to finish the cleaning in the flower shop. Gaston was Storybrooke’s golden boy. A football star, a bright future in politics, a face that could get him any girl in town; he was the closest Storybrooke could get to royalty. And Belle was the snobbish daughter of the flower guy who ran off to Australia and didn’t bother to call. Of course nobody was going to take her side.

Was there even a point to opening the library now? Gaston was turning everyone against her, maybe no one would show up. The town had managed without a library for a whole year without collapsing. It had managed longer without her. She was not needed, no matter what Mr. Gold said.

When she heard the front door on Friday afternoon, Belle rushed to the front desk. She was in desperate need of a long talk with Archie. He was a good listener and always had the best advice.

“Thank god you’re here,” Belle said, on the verge of tears. “I’m going crazy-”

Belle stopped on her heels. That was not Archie’s friendly face, that was Mrs. Gold’s.

She smiled and greeted, “Good evening, Ms. French.”

“Mrs. Gold,” Belle said, more of a statement than a greeting.

“I’m sorry, I saw the door was unlocked and I entered without knocking. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I- it’s for the volunteers,” she explained. She realized her face was still wet and rubbed the tears away.

Mrs. Gold was polite enough to pretend not to notice them. She smiled broadly. “Oh! Good. Because I came to offer you my services.”

Belle’s stare was involuntary. Not only could she not believe what she was hearing, Mrs. Gold looked nothing like the woman who had treated her so coldly not one week before. She looked… humbled. Almost sweet. Like a friendly neighbor who offers you pie to welcome you to the neighborhood.

“Actually, Ms. French,” she said, taking a step forward. Belle had to fight the urge to take a step back, despite the front desk separating the both of them. “I came to apologize for my behavior.”

“Oh,” Belle said, not knowing what else might be an appropriate response.

“I was having a terrible night and I took it out on you and that was inexcusable. You were only trying to do something nice for me. Your flowers were lovely, they really were. Here.” She placed a large plastic bag on top of the desk. “I thought of bringing you flowers, but Rumple said you probably have enough of those already. I think these might be more appropriate for the occasion.”

Belle held the stare on her welcoming eyes for a moment more, waiting for it to crack and reveal the sneer behind the mask. When that didn’t happen, she dared to peek inside the bag. Old books. A dozen of them.

“For the library,” Mrs. Gold explained. “I thought you might need them.”

“Yes,” Belle agreed, still a little confused by the two very distinct images she had of that woman, conflicting with each other inside her head. “Thank you, Mrs. Gold.”

“Milah.”

Belle said, “Milah,” and the name didn’t roll off her tongue easily.

Mrs. Gold gave her a nod and waited for further instructions. When they didn’t came, she didn’t look disappointed or heartbroken, just resigned. “Of course, if you don’t want me here I understand. My behavior was quite-”

“No. No, it’s-” Belle stammered, afraid she might lose the only volunteer she had left. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry. Please, stay. I need all the help I can get. I accept your apologies. Thank you. Very much. It means a lot to me.”

“And I do mean it when I say I want to volunteer. I think it’s remarkable what you are doing for this town.”

Belle tried to smile, but couldn’t. There was something about that woman that made her feel very uncomfortable.

She said, “It was your husband’s idea, actually.”

“I know. Sometimes he  _does_  have good ideas, doesn’t he?” Mrs. Gold winked at her.

A couple of girlfriends, chatting away.

Belle was never more glad to see Anna in her life when she burst through the door, already mid-rambling. “You know what? I don’t care what everybody says. Gaston had it coming since, like, forever! I am  _not_  taking his side in this. You and I have way more history than Chris does with him. I  _am_  volunteering and if he has a problem with it, he can go sleep with his reindeer. Hi, Mrs. Gold.”

The other woman looked at Anna a little puzzled, as if not sure how she fit into her perfect apology, but answered, “Hello, Ms. Dale. How is your sister?”

“She’s super, thank you for asking. Although the DA is kinda kicking her around and she’s, like, not a secretary. But other than that, I think she’s super. Are you here to volunteer too? That will be so  _fun_! Girls night!”

Mrs. Gold couldn’t repress her horrified expression completely. Not that Belle could blame her.

“How about,” Belle said, taking the books out of the bag, “you fill catalog cards for these, Mrs. Gold? Anna and I will move some books around.”

“That works for me,” she said, sounding relieved.

Belle tried to sound as sincere as she could when she thanked her again. “Truly. These are wonderful, Milah.”

Anna asked, “Who’s Milah?”

Belle dragged her away.

*

Milah Gold was not kidding when she offered her services. For the next three days, she was the first to show up in the morning and the last one to leave at night. After filling cards for the books she brought herself, and then for other twenty or so donations that had been sitting on Belle’s desk the whole week, she pulled a chair in front of the authors catalog and put it in alphabetic order. She didn’t seem very willing to work as a group, but the few volunteers Anna and Archie had shamed back into the library regarded her with suspicion anyway, so that was probably for the best. Besides, she was surprisingly good at organizing things. By Sunday night, she had worked her way from A to F and didn’t seem to be tired or bored at all by the tedious task.

“You are quite efficient with those,” Belle said, when she finished the cards on row G.

Milah giggled. “I’ve had my share of menial jobs. They can always teach you something useful. Not that I think what you do-”

“No, it’s fine, it’s great. You keep working this fast you can call it whatever you like.”

Again, she giggled. Belle had tried for three days now, but whatever smile she had managed probably lacked the sincerity. There was just _something_  about that woman she simply couldn’t stomach. But maybe she was just being petty. Milah was doing a wonderful job. She was easily worth two volunteers or more.

“You could have run this place yourself,” Belle said.

“Rumple actually suggested I did. Once. Long before you got here. I used to catalog the trinkets in his pawnshop.” Milah closed the drawer marked with a faded G and turned to face her. “Have you been to his shop since you’ve gotten back?”

“Only a few times,” she answered.

“So you know that, after cataloging  _that_ , books are child’s play.”

Belle nodded, “Granted. It does look like quite a task.”

“Indeed.”

“Including the things in the back of the shop?”

Mrs. Gold had opened the drawer marked with an H and was about to start perusing through the cards when her hands stopped and she looked up. “I’m sorry?”

“You know, because that’s where the real mess is.”

“He’s letting people into the back of the shop now?”

Her question ended with a little laugh, but her tone was not as friendly as it had been a second before. If anything, it sounded like an accusation. Belle wasn’t sure what she was accusing her of, but it was enough to make her nervous.

“Well, not really. It was a special situation. He was working and I had to give him a book, and he couldn’t move his hands- anyway-” Belle said, stopping her rant. “The thing is, I can see why you’re so good at this.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Milah Gold smiled as big as she could. “And I can see the library will be in good hands.”

“You know, it’s late,” Belle said, checking her clock. “Why don’t you do this tomorrow? There’s really no need for the both of us to lose sleep over this.”

Milah looked at the drawer, then at Belle. “If you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. I’ll see you in the morning.”

After she left, Belle pushed a heavy cart filled with books to the back of the library and sorted the remaining books through the shelves. One week. All she had left was one week. But the library was clean and Milah would have that catalog done in two days, maybe less.

Anna had suggested she started telling people her side of the story, and even though Belle wanted to stay above the gossip and wait for it to die, she knew that giving the people what they wanted might win her some volunteers back. And upset Gaston, which was a bonus. She might just do exactly that.

Belle took a copy of  _Treasure_   _Island_  from the pile and opened to check if Mrs. Gold had stamped the first page as she had instructed. Right above the stamp, somebody had written  _Merry Gold_  on a long, feminine calligraphy. Belle guessed it was probably Mr. Gold’s mother, which made her smile. In all likelihood, that book was part of some very fond childhood memories and that made the donation all the more special.

*

The Mayor only showed up on the next Friday, two days before the library would finally be reopened to the public. If she was surprised or pleased by how far Belle and her volunteers had gone, her stone face didn’t let show.

“As you can see, we’re doing some last minute cleaning, but everything is in order and ready to go,” Belle told her.

“I see these books haven’t been shelved yet,” Mayor Mills said, pointing at a pile on her desk.

“These are new donations,” Belle replied. “They have just been sorted. We’re getting quite a few-”

“And the catalog?”

“Both author and title catalog have been put in order.”

“Library cards?”

“Ruby is taking names for me this week. I’ll have them ready by Sunday so I won’t have to waste time when people are checking books out.”

“Hm-hm,” Regina said, trying to sound skeptic, but only managing to sound disappointed. She looked around, trying to find something to criticize. Belle was relieved when she noticed there was nothing out of place and whatever the Mayor chose to throw at her she would have an answer to. Noticing that herself, the Mayor asked, “And what are you planning on serving on Sunday?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Now Regina looked very pleased with herself. “Surely you thought of offering drinks or appetizers?”

“I don’t think the budget will cover it.”

“Still, it would be a smart way to draw people in, don’t you agree?”

“I have done a lot of publicity these past two weeks.”

“Yes, your flower scheme. It was very lovely. But after your latest,” she cleared her throat, “ _indiscretion_  I thought it was clear attendance might be compromised.”

“I think that’s an overstatement,” Belle said, raising her voice without even realizing she was doing so.

The Mayor’s continued as steady as when she first came in. “Do you now?”

“And I think that has nothing to do with-”

“Excuse me, Belle?” Milah’s voice interrupted with a hint of urgency. “I am done filling these cards. Will you need me for anything else?”

Regina looked at Milah and greeted her with a cold smile. “Mrs. Gold! Didn’t expect to see you mixing with the likes of us.”

“Some people still do care for the library, Miss Mayor. Although City Hall doesn’t seem to give a damn.”

Regina’s expression went sour and Belle fought hard to keep a grin from emerging on her face. Milah Gold might be difficult, but she was great to have fighting on your corner, Belle had to admit it.

“Anyway, if you’re done with the mayor, Belle, I thought we might discuss the Grand Reopening on Sunday? If it’s beyond your budget, I would  _gladly_  make a donation for a little champagne and sandwiches.”

“Oh, uhn-” Belle stammered, looking from Milah to Regina as the two women stared each other down. She wondered just how much history there was between the two of them. “Only if you don’t mind, you’ve already been so helpful.”

“Not at all, my dear. I know a catering service that is very trustworthy. How about that?”

“I-yes, of course. Thank you.” Belle turned back to Regina. “As you see, Mayor Mills, Mrs. Gold has solved our problem.”

“Indeed,” Regina said, very displeased.

“Then I will see you on Sunday at noon.”

The Mayor seemed ready to keep trying to fight with teeth and nail. But ultimately, she gave in, and said, “Your husband must really hate losing, Mrs. Gold.” And left.

Milah chuckled, “She’s piece of work, isn’t she?”

“They  _bet_  on me?”

“They bet on the library, as far as I know. You just got caught on the crossfire. Not that Rumple really likes betting. It’s just that it’s really the only way you get her to do anything. You challenge her.” Milah took a piece of paper from the desk. “Can I have your phone? I’ll have catering coordinate things with you.”

Belle wrote down the number and said, “Nothing too expensive, please. You’ve done so much for me.”

“I think too expensive would be regarded as  _cheating_ ,” Milah said, giving another one of her giggles. This time, Belle laughed along. The idea of Mr. Gold and Mayor Mills challenging each other to a library duel was somewhat amusing.

“What did they bet?” Belle asked.

“What?  _Bragging_. It’s how it always goes with the two of them,” Milah said, tolling her eyes, as if that was just a particularly quirky side of her husband that she didn’t understand, but loved nonetheless. “He’ll come on Sunday and you have my permission to give him hell for it, if you’d like.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I, uhn, I actually see the appeal of beating Miss Mayor.”

“She’s a piece of work, isn’t she? Oh, and I have some great news for you. I just learned that my son will be attending the Grand Reopening.” She made sure to pronounce the title with even more pride than Ruby.

Belle gave her the largest smile she had in days. “That is so wonderful. I do miss Bae a lot.”

“He goes by Neal now. In fact he is very proud of his artistic name.”

“I heard.”

Milah Gold smile’s faded a little. “Belle, I was actually wondering if you could do me and my husband a little favor when he’s here.”

“Of course. Anything,” Belle said, and she meant it. She had a job, a catalog,  _and_  a catering service due to her and her husband. The Golds could have the clothes off her body if they so wished.

“I hate myself for asking this but,” Milah sighed heavily, full of guilt. “God, Belle, the thing you saw when you brought me flowers- when I treated you so terribly. Neal and I have a very complicated relationship and if he learns that I was drinking that night I’m afraid it might start another fight.”

Belle thought about Milah, standing in front of her, breathing right into her nose.

“I didn’t even know you were drinking.”

Milah chuckled with a little hint of shame. “You’re kind, but I know what I did. The thing is, I am trying to win back my son’s trust and I was wondering if you could do me this small favor and keep this between us.”

Belle didn’t answer. She couldn’t recall alcohol on her breath.

“And, of course, my husband would really appreciate it as well.”

“I think this is your business, Mrs. Gold,” Belle finally said, making the other woman sigh with relief. “I am not one to gossip behind other people’s backs.”

Milah Gold placed her hand on top of Belle’s. “You are a true friend, Belle. Thank you.” She swung her purse on her shoulder and left with a cheerful, “I’ll see you tomorrow at ten. Two more days!”

*

There was something.

Whenever that woman was concerned, there was always  _something_. Belle couldn’t pinpoint what, but it was there. It was in the way she peppered her voice with a little guilt, the way she looked down in shame – it  _looked_  sincere, but it didn’t  _feel_  sincere.

 _You’re still angry at her_ , Belle thought, and the voice inside her head was so much like her father’s whenever he chastised her that she found it difficult to argue with it.  _You’re still mad that she treated you so poorly. You really should let that go._

But she couldn’t. It was like the whole week had led her to that moment, that conversation.

_Don’t be silly! Women like Mrs. Gold have more to do than to waste a whole week helping the nosy flower girl. Women like her don’t need to buy your trust with books and favors, they call their husbands and they fix the problem for them._

Belle was not convinced. Maybe Mrs. Gold had been tapping the water, testing her, seeing if she could be trusted.

 _And why would she sit herself on that uncomfortable chair eight hours, sorting catalog cards, if all she wanted was to ask you to keep a secret? Besides!_   _She told you she had just learned that Baelfire was coming to Storybrooke. Clearly, this was an impulsive request_.

Didn’t feel like it, though. If anything, every word felt carefully chosen. And the alcohol… Belle couldn’t recall alcohol in her breath.

_If she wasn’t drink, why say that she was? You’re imagining things._

“Maybe I am,” Belle said.

Ruby asked, “Am what?”

Belle looked at her from over the menu. She knew it by heart by now, but she needed to worry her hands with something while her mind rushed a hundred words per second.

Ruby took a look at her face and said, “Long night?”

“Something like that.”

“Up for a late dinner? You’ll need your strengths this weekend.”

“Thank you, Ruby.”

Ruby looked over her shoulder. “Hey, Graham!”

Graham looked up from his booth.

“Keep Belle some company, will you? She’s in need of some distraction. And don’t let her talk about the library, if she gets worked up she won’t sleep tonight.”

“Is that Belle or a baby?” Graham asked, making them both laugh. He welcomed her into his booth. “Hey.”

“Hey. Late night?”

“Almost done. And that is all I’ll say about the library.”

“Fair enough. Listen, I’m sorry I couldn’t volunteer, but this week’s been crazy at work.”

“It’s fine.”

“You know I’m not taking Gaston’s side, right?”

“Didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Good, ‘cause he’s an arse.”

Belle smiled, tired. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hm-hm,” Graham muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Is Bae coming to the opening on Sunday?”

“Who told you that?” he said, looking a little upset that the secret was out. “It was suppose to be a surprise!”

“Nobody, I was just wondering.”

“Oh.” Graham went quiet. Then, “Don’t tell him I let it slip. He’s been nagging me for over a week to keep it a secret.”

“I won’t. I’ll act surprised. Promise.”

“Thank you.”

“When did he decide to come?”

“Sometime last week. I just found out last Friday. Why?”

“Nothing,” Belle said, unconvincingly. “Nothing at all.”

After that, they said nothing else, both too tired from long shifts. For Graham, silence seemed to be a blessing. For Belle, it just allowed her head to be filled with thoughts again.

Wednesday, he decided to come on Wednesday, she was sure of it.

_You don’t know._

Except that she did.

 _That woman spent a whole week on you and your library,_  said her father’s angry voice inside her head.  _If all she wanted was a favor, why not just offer to pay for catering? That’s how these people think. They don’t suck up to people like us_.

Maybe she wasn’t sucking up. Maybe she was trying to look good for her son.

_Why would she need to look good for her son?_

Why do they have a difficult relationship?

And for once, her father’s voice couldn’t answer.

Belle had no idea what had been her goal all week, but whatever Milah Gold had had on her mind when she first showed up at the library, it had nothing to do with volunteering.

**Author's Note:**

> A list of all one-shots in verse chronological order can be found here: http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse
> 
> I'm still taking prompts for this verse if anybody wants to send them.
> 
> I'm also doing a ASK MY CHARACTERS (http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/106018882167/ask-my-characters-a-question-and-they-shall).


End file.
